


To unclothe you

by Psykup



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, Fluff and Angst, M/M, No explicit porn, Tormund is a big softie, Tormund loves Jon's thights, love making, not too much angst don't worry, they're very much in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 17:59:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18946030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psykup/pseuds/Psykup
Summary: Intimate moment between Jon and Tormund. The wilding recalls how he used to struggle to undress the crow and his complex clothes. However, now he has no problem with this anymore, and enjoys taking his time with Jon, and to show him how much he loves his body.





	To unclothe you

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so this is the first time I ever write a fanfiction, I'm very excited to show it to you guys! English isn't my first language, you'll likely spot some mistakes.  
> If you have any critics or advice, I'd love to hear them.  
> (By the way, I would say that this fic takes place around S7, when Jon and Tormund are still both at Winterfell)
> 
> \+ I did a moodboard for this fic on Tumblr!  
> https://comfortablehate.tumblr.com/post/185110135481/to-unclothe-you-summary-intimate-moment-between

Southerners were so hard to undress. Despite Jon’s protestations, he still spoke and dressed like one, using fancy words and wearing fancy clothes, that did not need to be so complicated.

A simple belt and a few knots held Tormund’s clothes together, which did not make them any colder than anyone’s; his people had learned how to dress efficiently against the cold, without being restrained during a fight or hunting. “Functional”, was the best word to describe them. But southerners had a tendency to overdo when it came to dress, and when Tormund was first confronted to it, confusion had gained him. He had expected many things to get between him and the crow, since apparently the southern lords and ladies did things so differently from the free folks. 

What he had not expected, however, is that clothes would be the first thing to get between them. Literally. When they first laid together, Tormund had struggled hard to get Jon naked. How the hell was he supposed to take these off? Tormund had fought with the tiny belt that held the collar, then unfastened the knots, only to reveal another black tunic. But no belt, no strings that would allow him to undress Jon were in sight. Jon had laughed at Tormund’s confusion and said “Here, lemme help you” before undoing the tiny hooks hidden beneath the cloth that held his vest fastened. “You bloody southerners and your stupid clothes” Tormund had sworn when the boy was done, before yanking his trousers down, with a satisfying ease.

Since then, Tormund had learned to undress the lad, -quite promptly now, to be honest- but he sometimes enjoyed to sit back and watch Jon do it himself. He did not look like it, but Tormund could be a very patient man when it came to sex. And, surprisingly enough, that wasn’t the case for Jon, which made things for Tormund even more delicious and enjoyable. For example, when particularly aroused, Jon often struggled to take off his own clothes, hands heavy and clumsy with desire, so the older man had to chime in to help the poor idiot. 

This time, Tormund took his time to undress him, taking off each clothing with care, pretending not to notice Jon’s impatience and quick breathing. “Took you long enough” Snow teased as he stepped out of his breeches Tormund just took down. Tormund growled, low in his throat, “Careful boy”, but he remained where we was, on his knees, stroking the younger man’s lower hips for a moment, taking him in. 

The boy was truly a piece of work, Tormund really enjoyed looking at him. His dark expressive eyes, that usually cast his worry, or were schooled into a neutral gaze, were now soft and relaxed. Tormund was one of the few who had the privilege of seeing him free of concern, serene, and from time to time laughing genuinely. The boy was truly beautiful when he smiled, and Tormund took great pleasure in being the cause of these smiles.

Tormund lowered his eyes to Jon’s chest. The scars on his chest had started to fade, they were once swollen and red, but thankfully they were healing quickly. Jon still did not like to be touched there, but over the time he had started to allow Tormund to look at them without feeling embarrassed or irked, which was a good start. Tormund’s heart ached every time he looked at them, remembering that painful night when Jon had died. Thank the gods, his little crow was back, and seeing these scars was a reminder not to let anything happen to him, despite his own ability to defend himself. But Tormund knew if he lost Jon again it would be forever. Tormund’s heart ached at the thought, and he immediately tried to wipe out the idea from his mind. 

Tormund looked up and Jon must have caught the sadness in his eyes, because he gently put his hand on his cheek, stroking it lightly, but he said nothing. They did not talk much about what had happened.

He slid his hands from Jon’s ankles up to the inside of his pale thighs. Jon slipped his hand in Tormund’s hair, chuckling lightly. Tormund had the urge to kiss him, so he got up to take his mouth wholeheartedly, and Jon answered the kiss with eagerness. But after a few seconds, Jon broke the kiss and said against Tormund’s lips “When are you going to undress?” in a heavy breath.

“For now, lemme take care of you, boy” he answered, before pushing Jon backward so he fell on the bed. Tormund then sat down on the before him, took a hold of Jon's legs to throw one over his shoulder and block his other leg against the bed. The boy moaned, exposed and at his mercy. Tormund did not intend to give Jon the satisfaction to touch him yet, right now he wanted to focus on his lover’s inner thighs that he loved so much. He still bore the marks from last time, purplish spots he left from mouthing and sucking at the tender skin, and lighter bite marks. Tormund never bit hard enough to draw blood, the boy had already bled so much for others. 

He nuzzled his left thigh, enjoying the other man’s smell -how did he manage to always smell so good and delicate? –. Jon did nothing more than laying there and moan softly, breath becoming more hectic while Tormund took his time with his white thighs. To be perfectly honest, Tormund enjoyed seeing Jon just lay down, be pretty, and relax; the boy spends so much time brooding in a corner, he deserved some time for himself. Tormund couldn’t be happier to take part in that.

He still had his other leg caught against the bed, and the more he teased the sensitive skin, the more Jon’s leg trembled with spams, shaken by Tormund’s licks and kisses, but the older man didn’t loosen his grip on his ankle, keeping the boy on display for him. Tormund had also noticed that Jon was now fully hard, only from Tormund’s touches, which considerably flattered his ego. “Enjoying yourself little crow?” he laughed after Jon gripped roughly his hair with one hand. 

“Aye I am, ’think you’re quite happy to be down there too” answered the smaller man. Tormund grinned and took a hold the leg he had thrown on his shoulder to mouth at the tender skin, down to behind his lover’s knee, and kissed him there, causing the crow to let out a throaty sigh. “Come on, get on with it now” he moaned, and rose on his elbows to look Tormund in the eye.  
At this moment Tormund found it was impossible for him to refuse anything to his little crow. Jon looked ravenous right now, eager for Tormund’s touch, his lips parted, cheek and chest both flushed, and his gaze, so heavy on Tormund. “Come here then, baby crow” growled the larger man, before kissing him roughly. 

\--

Jon’s cheek was resting on Tormund’s chest, just above his heart, his breath steady and relaxed. Jon sometimes liked to have Tormund lay on hist chest, and to join his arms around him, so he enveloped him. Then he usually put his chin on Tormund’s head, and they laid like this indefinitely. Despite his size and looks, Tormund too enjoyed to be held close in a warm embrace, and sometimes having his hair pet as well. 

But tonight, it was Tormund who was cradling Jon’s head, humming and old song his mother used to sing to him. They remained like this for a long time, and the wilding could have believed Jon had fallen asleep, if not for his fingers slighting stroking his side. Sometimes after laying together they liked to speak and drink wine -or ale-, which usually led to fucking again. But other times they liked the silence between them, simply enjoying each other’s warmth. Laying like this, they had mapped out each other’s bodies, had memorized each scars and moles. 

Tormund raised his hand to pet Jon’s hair and kissed his head. He felt the younger man smile against him, and after a while the little crow had clearly fallen asleep. Tormund chuckled to himself and kissed his head again, before closing his eyes. He truly loved that crow.

**Author's Note:**

> I had the idea of writing this when watching S4 EP 1. When Jon prepares before seeing the Night's watch commander & officers, I couldn't help but think about how intricate his clothes looked.
> 
> Come have a chat w/ me @ comfortablehate on tumblr!


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